


Sterling

by KagekaNecavi



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hartwin Secret Santa, Kissing, M/M, Mission Fic, Non-Graphic Violence, Olympics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 03:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5811979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KagekaNecavi/pseuds/KagekaNecavi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy Unwin has made it to the Olympics. He's one of the best gymnasts in the world, and is hoping to prove himself at the games. And then he runs into the man who, so many years ago, came to tell his mum that his dad died. There's been a terrorist threat against the Olympics, and Eggsy knows just how he can help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sterling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marginaliana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana/gifts).



> For the 2015/2016 Hartwin Winter Secret Santa. My prompt was as follows: “The AU where Eggsy stuck with gymnastics and went on to the Olymptic team. How do he and Harry meet? Maybe there's someone trying to sabotage the Olympics itself and it's Harry's mission to stop it, and Eggsy gets suspicious and sticks his nose in, and then they have to work together to catch the baddie?”
> 
> Which meant either he could be on the young end of the 2012 Olympic team in London, or be a member of the 2016 Olympic team down in Rio and be about the same age as in the movie. For slightly less creep factor, I went with the later - though the London setting was VERY tempting.
> 
> Names of all of the Olympians are made up, save Eggsy's. However the two teams mentioned (including Great Britain) have actually already qualified for the 2016 Summer Olympics.
> 
> I hope this comes across as you read it, but I generally wrote this with the idea that the plot of Kingsman did roughly happen before this fic started. However, I don't go into too much detail except at the very start and you can imagine the events of the movie without Eggsy going however you want, as long as the end result means Chester King is dead and gone and I can make Arthur whoever I want, Roxy is here and is Lancelot, and everyone in the fic is still alive at the end of the events of the movie.

The assignment to Rio de Janeiro was one that quite a few agents desired. It was the Olympics, after all, and in somewhere nice and sunny. Harry was not, in fact, one of them. It was going to be one of Lancelot’s first missions with an agent that wasn’t Percival, and he didn’t want to be babysitting her. She was a good agent, of course, and had been far better than any proposal this last time around. Harry hadn’t even offered one up, which had irritated Chester King to no end. More often than not the proposal was the child of some high society connection that the proposing agent had, and suggesting the child was a way of strengthening that connection.

Harry thought that was bullshit.

He’d hoped that he could find someone that he considered suitable, someone that might shake things up in Kingsman, but he’d been unable to. The fact that the candidate who had gotten Lancelot’s position was a young woman was just as good as if it had been someone as system-bucking as Harry himself might have picked. Good on Percival for picking her, and good on her for beating out the boys.

But regardless of how qualified she was and how good Harry thought she was, he did not want to go with her to the Olympics in Rio. Most of the time new agents spent their first few missions saying such idiotic things as ‘but that’s not how my proposing agent does things,’ whenever they weren’t paired with their proposing agent. It was annoying and Harry did not have the patience for it.

Not to mention that he thought the mission itself was a waste of time. There were always terrorist threats against the Olympics. There were always Kingsman agents from multiple countries at big, international events like the Olympics - Harry remembered one amusing year when the Kingsman agent from another country actually competed in the Olympics. In addition to the Kingsman agents, the Olympics had tight security and there were all kinds of spies and agents from many different countries there keeping the peace. _They_  almost always prevented anything from happening. Kingsman agents rarely had to intervene.

No, this assignment was an elaborate babysitting job. Harry wasn’t certain if it was babysitting Lancelot or the Olympians, but it was babysitting nonetheless, and Harry wanted nothing to do with it.

Which was probably exactly why Arthur assigned it to him.

She was a horrible, dreadful woman.

“You could do with a little color in your cheeks, Harry,” she said, pleasantly, looking up at him from her chair.

“We’re British, Arthur. We could all do with color in our cheeks,” Harry countered, eyebrows arched.

“This is a reward, Harry. You, Lancelot, and Merlin did a very good job taking care of Valentine. We’re never truly needed at the Olympics, so you’ll get to go, see the games for free, get sun for free, eat all kinds of exotic food on Kingsman’s tab, look at some attractive people on the beaches in Rio. Whatever you want,” Arthur said, smiling sweetly at Harry.

“Meredith-” Harry started.

“Harry,” she said, in an amused tone.

Harry stopped, sighed, and said, “I’m not getting out of this am I?”

“No, dear, you won’t. And Merlin and Lancelot are going with you. We’ll have someone else covering for Merlin, and we have more than enough agents to cover for you and Lancelot,” Arthur said, “Pack your bags. Make sure you bring some nice tacky tourist clothes.”

Harry glared at her, and she just laughed as he headed out of the room.

* * *

 

 

Technically, Merlin was their pilot across the Atlantic, but he let the autopilot take care of most of it, as it was a long flight and could be a pain to fly the entire time. Instead, he went back and sat with Lancelot and Harry and they discussed the various threats to the Olympics. Some of them were low level, people who had called in threats from their own phones and were easily traced so that the perpetrators could be brought in, as long as they tipped off the local law enforcement officials - after all, people that stupid weren’t exactly worth wasting too much of Kingsman’s time.

But there were a few that were more serious. Ones that appeared to be tied to organized crime or known terrorist organizations. They’d have to keep an eye on those. But so far none of the threats had all that much credibility. Yes, they were from credible organizations, but the threats themselves didn’t have any detail, vague enough to sound hollow and like they were simply intended to cause strife and chaos.

All told, none of the threats seemed both genuine and truly threatening, but they would keep an eye on how things progressed.

Eventually they landed in Rio and there were Kingsman cars waiting for them. They loaded the cars up, with the assistance of the staff at the airport, and drove to the safe house that they had been assigned to use as a base of operations. It was actually quite nice, and was larger than they would need. It had six bedrooms, and they really would only need four - one for each of them and one for the equipment. So, for efficiency’s sake, they ended up spreading the equipment out to two rooms, one for the computers and tech and the other for the weapons.

They were in Rio for nearly three days before one of the threats actually became truly credible.

“Lancelot, Galahad, I need you to come back and take a look at something. We have a problem,” Merlin said through their glasses around lunchtime that day. Merlin was back at their base and Harry and Lancelot were both out eating lunch at different places around the Olympic facilities, so that they could keep an eye on things.

Harry wrapped up his meal quickly and headed back. He had been wishing for something interesting to happen - some time off was nice every so often, but he would rather spend it actually having the time off and not on a boring mission that he hadn’t wanted to go on in the first place. But he didn’t think anything really would happen.

Lancelot was already there waiting with Merlin when he arrived, Merlin sitting at the computer and Lancelot standing to one side. “What do you have?” Harry asked, going over and looking over Merlin’s shoulder.

“There was a call made from a burner phone about an hour ago. They called the CIA and told them that on the 21st, during the closing ceremony, a bomb will go off in the stands,” Merlin said, tapping away at the keyboard, “That’s a specific threat, a specific date, a specific time. And, worst of all, while we don’t know who bought the phone or made the call, it was triangulated to the Olympic Village. Which is the area of highest security in the entire Olympic complex.”

“That was in the briefing. They only allow athletes, trainers, and officials there, don’t they?” Lancelot said, frowning.

“As well as former athletes and family, if they get clearance,” Merlin nodded. “So unless there was some sort of security breach, the person who called in the threat is directly involved with the Olympics.”

* * *

 

As he and the rest of his team came into the stadium for one of their few chances to practice with the equipment before the qualifiers, Eggsy was hit by a sense of awe and wonder, so much that he was nearly knocked off his feet. He could barely believe he was here. He’d actually made it to the Olympics. The fucking _Olympics_! His mum had always told him that he could do it, always supported his gymnastics, even when they had to cut back in order to afford it. Even in the plane on the way there, even in the Olympic Village, it hadn’t quite seemed real. But looking at the equipment, the stadium, it became very real.

Not even at the World Championships had Eggsy been in such a huge stadium, with so many seats and such amazing equipment. Not as a competitor, at least. He had to just stand there and take it in for a long moment, imagining what it would be like to have all those eyes on him all at once. The idea made his stomach flip a little, but then set determinedly.

“It’s worse when it’s empty,” Umar, one of his teammates, said, giving him a little nudge. He’d been one of the Olympians in London, so he was pretty experienced with this. “When it’s full, and you’ve got your country cheering for you, it’s amazing. Gives you energy.”

“Yeah, let’s hope so,” Duncan, the youngest of their group, said. He had gotten so nervous at the World Championships that he’d almost thrown up.

“Well, either way, I’ve got to take a piss.” Eggsy said, dropping his bags off on a bench and glancing around the stadium. They’d been told the layout of it before, where the locker rooms - not that they were going to really be using them for much - were, but it took him a moment to remember which exit he needed to use.

He headed down the hall and went into the locker room that they were to use whenever they needed the space, and froze once he had gone a short ways into it. There was a bloke in there, someone who, based on the fancy suit he was wearing, was not part of the Olympic security staff or the Olympics at all, and he was going through the lockers.

The weirdest part - and how there could be a part weirder than ‘there’s a posh bloke with an umbrella going through the Olympic gymnastic lockers like he’s planning on nicking something’ was pretty fucking bizarre in itself -  was he looked vaguely familiar.

They stared at each other, both surprised as fuck, for a long moment, then Eggsy turned and ran towards the door. He could have confronted the man, but they had security for a reason, and Eggsy didn’t want to get hurt and fuck up his chances at a medal because of some weirdo in the locker room. He’d only taken a couple of steps when something wrapped around his ankles and hampered his movement. Eggsy fell to the ground, using his gymnastics training to fall correctly and make sure he didn’t hurt himself. He rolled and pivoted, and found himself face to face with the posh old bloke.

The bloke’s eyes darted down to the medal around Eggsy’s neck. Despite the fact that it had been given to him after his dad had died, it was his good luck charm - he pretty much only took it off right before he was about to do a gymnastics routine. The man smiled slowly and pulled back, and it was suddenly obvious to Eggsy that he’d been about to get hit or something. Though despite the fact that the man had one hand raised in a fist, his other hand had been up near his watch, which was odd.

“Eggsy Unwin,” he said, sounding surprised and somewhat pleased as he took his glasses off and slid them into his pocket. Maybe he’d needed them for whatever he was doing in the lockers?

“Yeah,” Eggsy said, eyeing him suspiciously. In general, he competed under his legal name, though his teammates and coaches all used his nickname. But his nickname wasn’t well known - hell, unless he actually won a medal his _name_  probably wouldn’t be well known. And even then, a well known Olympic gymnast wasn’t going to be as well known as the lesser known football or rugby players.

“Harry Hart. I’m the one who gave you that medal,” the man said, reaching down to undo the cord that held Eggsy’s ankles together tightly. What the hell even was that thing?

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Eggsy asked, scooting back once his ankles were freed. Now that Harry had identified himself, Eggsy vaguely remembered him. His mother sobbing, Harry looking at the snow globe and handing him the medal. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he’d been so young then or his memory playing tricks, but Harry had not only seemed much younger, but so much less worn.

“That’s … complicated,” Harry said, standing and holding a hand to Eggsy. He looked up at Harry, warily, and took it, using it as leverage to stand.

“Gimmie a second, then explain it. I did come back here for a reason,” Eggsy said, and went to the rear of the locker room, where the bathrooms were, to do his business. When he came back, Harry was nosing around in the lockers again. “What the fuck are you even doing?”

Harry sighed, looked Eggsy up and down, and then said, “A rather serious threat has been made against the Olympics games. One of our suspects is a gymnast.”

Eggsy wasn’t surprised that there were threats - they had restrictions on the visitors they took back to the Village for security purposes, and sometimes he thought he saw more security than spectators. But for one to come from a competitor? And for some bloke to be poking around in their locker rooms because of it? “Yeah, but there’s no way you’re Olympic security.”

“Generally I tell people I’m a tailor,” Harry said, a slight twitch of his lips betraying humor in the comment.

“You ain’t one of them, either,” Eggsy said, snorting a laugh. After a moment he shook his head. “Look, if you’re trying to find something or trying to plant a bug, it’s not gonna work. It’s not like we’re … I don’t know … fencing or some shit where there’s all kinds of kit to get in and out of. Yeah, we’ve got to change between the shorts and the pants between events but we usually do that out there. We wear skin tight singlets - none of us are modest.”

“Well then what do you suggest?” Harry asked, turning to him.

That was a good question. And Eggsy could really only see one solution, one way to effectively spy on whoever it was that Harry needed to spy on. “Which ones do you need bugs on? I know where most of the gymnasts are housed in the Village, I can plant something in their rooms. Or put it on them.”

“I don’t want to involve you. While I am pleased to know that you have been so successful, I don’t want to put you in any danger,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t be allowing you to remember this encounter, as a matter of fact. Even simply having knowledge of the organization I work for is dangerous.”

“Yeah, well if you can’t figure out what’s going on with that threat you mentioned, then I’m probably fucked now, ain’t I?” Eggsy asked, arching his eyebrows.

Harry narrowed his eyes, and instead of responding to the question he said, “You told your teammates you were coming back here for the bathroom, did you not? Won’t they wonder what’s happened to you?”

“Shit,” Eggsy said, and glanced at the door, then back to Harry, “I want to help you, somehow.”

“We will discuss it. But no promises,” Harry said, and reached into the pocket of his suit jacket to pull out a small business card. All it had on it was a phone number in plain black text. “Text me and let me know it’s you, and we’ll meet to discuss it later.”

“Will do,” Eggsy said, pocketing the card and heading back out.

When he got there Arran, a gymnast that Eggsy had trained with for years, said teasingly, “You took your sweet time, didn’t you?”

“Okay you caught me - I had to shit, too,” Eggsy said, pulling his jacket off and dumping it on the bench, starting to stretch. “Anybody tried any of it yet?”

“Not yet,” Umar said, “But there’s no way it’s worse than London. Red border on this nasty purple floor. Threw everybody’s depth perception to hell.”

“I remember seeing that on the telly,” Logan grinned, “You stepped off bounds twice in your floor routine in the team all-around.”

“Shut it,” Umar threw a towel at Logan’s head, laughing.

* * *

 

Once Harry slipped out of the stadium and was in an area that was populated enough so he would not rouse suspicion merely by the way he was dressed, he put his glasses back on, Merlin’s voice coming in annoyed and knowing and dry. “Well, clearly someone wasn’t doing something they weren’t supposed to be. I am shocked.”

“The young man can help us. I told you when things got complicated that we needed an in at the Olympics. Now we have one,” Harry murmured, knowing the glasses would pick up even the faint words. He was loathe to endanger Eggsy, but they needed his assistance. Even just his knowledge of the inner workings would be extremely helpful - the fact that he competed in the same sport as their prime suspect was even more of a bonus.

“And if that’s all it was, you needed to remove your glasses … why?” Merlin asked, voice skeptical and clearly not buying what Harry was selling.

“Because my powers of persuasion work best without you eavesdropping,” Harry said, finished with the subject. He still blamed himself for Lee’s death, and he’d never properly made it up to the Unwin family. Sure, he’d made a call when Eggsy’s step-father had begun to get abusive, and that had landed the man in jail for quite a few years, but that still didn’t feel like enough. Especially now that he had Eggsy there, eager to leap into danger headfirst.

He had kept up to date with Eggsy, though that didn’t always include new photographs, so he hadn’t recognized Eggsy until he’d seen the medal, despite knowing he would be there. That was one reason why he had volunteered to go to the stadium and follow up on that particular lead in the first place. He’d been lucky that the man who had come in to go to the bathroom had been Eggsy. He was quite a handsome man now, and very accomplished. Being an Olympian was an amazing achievement in and of itself, and additionally Harry had seen his test scores - Eggsy was brilliant. When he was done competing he’d be able to do anything he put his mind to.

Perhaps Harry was a little biased. But he knew that even without that bias, Eggsy was still quite extraordinary.

About halfway back to their base of operations, Harry spotted Lancelot. She had been spending her time at the beach - a pleasant way to spend the afternoon, he was sure, even if she’d done it to spy on several of their less promising suspects. They met seamlessly on the sidewalk and began to walk side by side to the safe house.

She wore a pair of large sunglasses that he knew were actually Kingsman glasses, made into what was fashionable for her generation to wear to the beach. He wasn’t fond of that style, but she wore it well, along with the sundress and large bag. Presumably her weaponry was all in the bag, or perhaps her necklace was something dangerous, or even the practical accessories that kept her hair firmly out of her eyes. Harry wasn’t certain, but he did know that the tailors and gadgeteers had been utterly thrilled to be working with another female knight, and one so young. Meredith - their current Arthur - had been the last, and she’d been getting on a bit in years when she’d come out of active duty due to a knee injury. Her cane was every bit as deadly as every other piece of Kingsman equipment, granted, but because she was inactive there hadn’t been as much of a challenge in outfitting her. But Lancelot, well. She was young and fiery and feminine. Not that she didn’t also insist on a bespoke suit and everything that came with it, but apparently she also could be utterly deadly in a dress and stilettos if the mission called for it.

“Merlin tells me you’ve recruited someone to assist us?” Lancelot asked after a few minutes of just walking beside Harry, giving him the barest glance.

“Yes. One of the English gymnasts is a young man that I had the pleasure to meet some time ago, when he was quite young. I believe we can trust him,” Harry said.

Lancelot didn’t seem quite so sure, but she accepted his judgment with a nod.

“How have you done narrowing down our suspect list?” Harry asked, glancing over at her.

“I am beginning to think that athletes immediately lose every ounce of their intelligence if you put them on a beach,” she said, sighing. “But it is going fine. I think we can cross a few more people off of our list.” They’d already narrowed it down based on which athletes had definitely been elsewhere, because they’d been spotted by the media, they were at scheduled events, or based on their cell phone usage, but that still left them with a lot of athletes, officials, and trainers to eliminate. They’d also begun researching the athletes, officials, and trainers to see if they had any connection to hate groups or terrorist groups, which was how they had come up with the gymnast that they suspected, the one he’d mentioned to Eggsy. He was an American whose brother was a member of one of the myriad of white supremacist groups that was rooted there. It was a bit of a stretch, but it was a potential motivation.

“I am quite glad that you’re the one who has to deal with that, and not me,” Harry grinned a little, “I’m not certain I could tolerate that level of stupidity.”

“I’m not certain you can, either. That’s why Lancelot is the one assigned to it,” Merlin said, dryly.

Before Harry could say his witty response, his phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked it, finding a new text from a number that wasn’t programmed into his phone.  _its eggsy. where do you wanna meet?_  He didn’t have great grammar, but at least he wasn’t spelling “you” as “u”.

Harry considered the actual content of the text and suggested one of the small cafes near enough to the Olympic Village that Eggsy would have no problem getting there, but also that hadn’t ever seemed particularly crowded to him. Eggsy agreed and they decided on a time, a little later in the afternoon. Then he continued on back to their safe house and they debriefed with Merlin on the morning.

* * *

 

When Eggsy got to the cafe, Harry was already there, sitting at a table, a coffee in front of him. Eggsy ordered and took his own coffee to the table and said, quietly, “Is it safe to just sit and talk about this here?”

“Think about the last time you ate out. What did the people at the next table over look like? What were they talking about?” Harry asked.

“Oh. Well, you’ve got a point there,” Eggsy nodded and sipped at the coffee. “So what can I do to help?”

“Are you certain about this? You’ll be put into danger if you help us, and we can likely do it without you,” Harry said, and he looked at least somewhat concerned.

“I’m sure. I don’t know what you do or who you’re with, but you knew and worked with my dad, so you’ve got to be legit. If you say someone is threatening the Olympics, then someone is threatening the Olympics and I want to do everything I can to help,” Eggsy nodded.

Harry nodded, and leaned in closer. “Good. The gymnast we suspect is an American, a man named Chase Fisher. The threat was made by phone and tracked to the Olympic Village. We suspect him because he’s one of the people who could reasonably have been where the call was triangulated to and he has admittedly tenuous ties to a white supremacist group in America. At this point we have to narrow down suspects in any way and also find any sort of motivation we can. So we think Fisher might be a threat. It may turn out he’s not involved at all, but we need to have some kind of surveillance on him just in case it is him.”

“I’ve met him. He seems a bit like a git. I can’t really see him actually threatening things like that, but I don’t really know him well enough to make that call,” Eggsy shrugged. “What kind of tech do you have for me to use so you can keep an eye on him?”

“This,” Harry put a hand in his pocket and came out with a very small black dot on a small piece of paper. Eggsy looked at it closely and saw that it was, in fact, a tiny little microphone. Or speaker. Or something. It had some kind of cross hatching that made it definitely look like it was one or the other. “Peel it off the paper and the back is sticky. Just affix it somewhere in his rooms. If you know of something he wears all the time then that would be good, but if not then just in his rooms.”

“Okay. This should be pretty easy. He’s invited me over before, so I think I can get into his quarters pretty easy,” Eggsy nodded.

“Invited you over?” Harry frowned, and Eggsy couldn’t help but notice that worried was a good look on him.

“Yeah. He throws parties sometimes, invites the other athletes over, especially the gymnasts. It’s no big deal,” Eggsy said, shaking his head.

“Be careful. Don’t risk yourself unnecessarily. You are quite eager, and I appreciate that, but you don’t have any training in this sort of thing,” Harry said.

“I will,” Eggsy smiled a little.

* * *

 

It only took Eggsy a few hours to be able to plant the bug. Harry had a lot of faith in him, but even he was surprised at Eggsy’s efficiency. At first most of what they heard was a lot of chatter, too much and too garbled to really make out, though they did hear Eggsy’s voice in all of it.

Then it went silent for hours. Eggsy must have had to plant it in Fisher’s room, rather than on his person. That was fine - his room would be the most private place he had, and therefore the best place for him to contact anyone from. If it was him then they should be hearing something from him soon.

Of course while they waited, Harry and Lancelot continued trying to weed out the other thousands of suspects. This one wasn’t anywhere near the village when the threat was issued, that one couldn’t speak English. Slowly but surely they eliminated one after another after another.

And, as much as it pained him, Harry had had to miss two of Eggsy’s events so far. Great Britain had qualified for the team all-Around, and Eggsy had qualified for the individual all-around. There was something about him, about his determination to help and his passion for his sport and for the very spirit of the Olympics - the idea of athletes and countries coming together and finding common ground in their love of sport - that drew Harry to him. That, and the fact that Eggsy had continued to text him, his brilliance and humor and his surprising repository of knowledge about old musicals charming Harry in a way that he hadn’t been charmed in a very long time.

The evening of the 12th of August, Lancelot and Harry were both back at the safe house and taking a small breather before bed, Merlin called them into the equipment room and tapped on his keyboard, an American voice coming through the speakers of his computer, pausing as in a conversation but the response was distant and unintelligible, so Fisher was probably on the phone.

“Yeah, that works. It’s only about a half an hour away so it won’t take me too much longer than that to get there, if I run into any traffic or crowds anything. There’s medal events every day, depending on the sport, so there’s always somebody at a bar somewhere,” a pause, and then, firmly, “No, they won’t suspect me. I’m an athlete, I come and go with gym bags all the time, and all the security guards know me. I go out enough,” there was another pause and then, “Meet your guys there.”

There wasn’t anymore talking, but there was rustling around, like Fisher was getting ready to go somewhere.

“Shit, where is he going?” Harry asked, frowning.

“He never said. Fuck.” Merlin said, pulling up a map. They were at least a half an hour away from the Village, depending on traffic. “Text Eggsy. Ask him to see if he can find out what direction Fisher is going. We can figure it out from there.”

Harry wasn’t that fond of that plan. He knew Eggsy much better than Merlin did - much better than he himself had, before - and had a feeling Eggsy wouldn’t stop there. But … they didn’t have much other choice.

 _Eggsy, I need a favor. Fisher is about to leave his quarters and we need to know where he’s headed. Just find out the direction and we’ll do the rest,_  Harry texted after a moment of careful thinking on the wording.

 _yeah but he could change direction real easy,_  came Eggsy’s quick reply, and Harry sighed. Before he could send another text protesting that, another text popped up,  _hey if I call you you can track me right??_

 _Eggsy NO!!_  Harry sent immediately, an inordinate amount of panic gripping his chest.

 _that’s a yes ;P_  popped up on his screen for a brief moment before the incoming call screen replaced it.

Harry stabbed the accept button with his finger, knowing that Eggsy would go through with this no matter what - he knew Eggsy’s brand of stubborn bastard, recognized it in himself - and snapped, “Stay where you are, Eggsy! Do not follow him! You’re not trained and you have no idea what you’re getting into!”

“I can’t hear you by the way,” Eggsy said easily, cheerfully, “I turned the call volume down. But I didn’t put it on mute, so you can hear what’s going on for me. Got my headphones around my neck, so the mic’s near my face. Clever, yeah?”

“Trace him. Keep me updated,” Harry said, shoving his glasses on and going to go grab a couple of weapons. “I’m going to head in the direction of the Olympic Village, and as they change direction let me know.”

“Will do,” Merlin said, more through the glasses than anything as Harry moved through the house.

He left briskly, cursing stupid, brash young men. Though he had to admit, it had been some rather quick thinking on Eggsy’s part. If he’d actually been trained for this sort of thing, maybe it would have even been good thinking! But he wasn’t, he was just an athlete, and he was going to get himself fucking killed.

Merlin gave him updates as he walked, keeping his directions short and to the point. Harry had left his phone with Merlin, who had connected it to the computer and had the call routed back over the glasses. Since Eggsy couldn’t hear them it didn’t matter what they said, but he could still hear Eggsy, hear him breathing, hear his feet pounding the sidewalk, the noise of his rubber soled trainers very different than Harry’s own oxfords. It was amazingly soothing to hear, to know Eggsy was still safe and sound.

“You’re getting close, Harry. Take the next right turn, then he’s about 50 or 60 meters straight ahe- no, he just turned right,” Merlin said, and Harry could hear the frown in his voice.

“Shit!” Eggsy said, sharply.

“What the - you’re one of the Brits, aren’t you?” Fisher said, sounding a little faint through Eggsy’s call.

Harry started running.

“Yeah, I am. Just stretching my legs - you know how it is when you’ve got a couple of days off.” Eggsy sounded like even he knew the excuse sounded weak.

“He’s another athlete?” a new voice asked, and the accent was thick, but … American southern? That was unexpected. Or maybe not considering the ties that Fisher had.

Harry was getting near the corner that Eggsy had turned, and he’d definitely turn it when he got there, but he needed to know how many combatants he was facing. Was it just Fisher and the other American or were there a dozen of them?

“I am, but like I said, I was just taking a walk, so hows about I leave the five of you to … whatever it is five blokes get up to in dark alleys. Not judging, but maybe make sure if the officials ask you to piss in a cup you’ll be clean,” Eggsy said, and there was a slapping noise and a short noise of pain.

Good boy, Eggsy. That was all Harry had needed to know, and he got to the corner just as one began to speculate about how soon people would look for Eggsy if he disappeared. He came around the corner at speed, umbrella raised.

* * *

 

Harry’s timing was fucking perfect. He came around the corner with that same damn umbrella he’d had in the locker room and unleashed hell on the men surrounding Eggsy. God, that was … actually really damn sexy. He moved fluidly, like a dancer or even a gymnast, using his enemies’ momentum and weapons against them - and of course they were all armed, fucking Americans.

Eggsy couldn’t quite tell, but it didn’t even look like Harry killed any of them, and that was even more impressive. Harry was armed, too, and it probably would have been easier to just kill most of them. But, no, he just took them down, and never even had to draw his own gun.

The only one that wasn’t armed, who didn’t try to fight, was Chase. He still got taken down, though, with some kind of dart shot out of Harry’s watch. Once it was all over, Harry glanced around and then went over to Eggsy, cupping his face and looking him over.

“I heard them hit you over the call,” Harry said, voice quiet and tight and controlled.

“I’m okay. I’m used to taking a few knocks. Broke my leg in two places once falling wrong off the parallel bars,” Eggsy grinned wide, reaching up and wrapping one hand around the back of Harry’s head, pulling him down and kissing him. Harry had easily allowed the movement, but Eggsy felt him tense at the kiss. He was about to pull away, figuring he was reading things wrong, when Harry’s arms wrapped around him tightly and he was kissing back, firmly and possessively.

Eggsy was just about to open his mouth into the kiss when Harry jolted back and frowned a little. Did he do something wrong? Eggsy scowled, crossing his arms.

“No, it’s not your fault, Eggsy. My - his name is Merlin. He serves all sorts of functions but at the moment he’s acting as mission coordinator. He’s telling me that we need to interrogate one of them before snogging in alleyways,” Harry said, his tone irritated. He turned to the men on the ground and grabbed one that was conscious and trying to ignore them, as if by ignoring them they wouldn’t notice he was awake. Harry grabbed him and hauled him up, and Eggsy noticed that the guy had that cable stuff around not only his ankles but his wrists, too.

“Let me go you fucking-” whatever the guy was going to finish the sentence with was cut off by a punch to the jaw, Harry narrowing his eyes. Eggsy glanced around while Harry worked the guy over. He’d seen a bag when he first turned the corner but had lost track of it in all the chaos.

It had gotten pushed to the side, but he spotted it after a few moments of looking and went over, carefully unzipping it. If Chase had been the intended recipient, it couldn’t be that complicated.

Inside there were several very large grey bricks of something that looked like clay or putty, as well as some wires and other bits. PE-4, his mind supplied. That was how they always described it in movies and TV shows. “Harry!” he called out, looking over, “There’s a bomb in this bag!”

Harry dropped the man he was interrogating and rushed over, looking almost relieved when he saw the bomb. “Plastic explosives are usually very stable - a good choice if they’re going to get an athlete to plant it and set it off. It should be easy to disarm this. Let me see the ignition device.”

Eggsy moved over and let Harry get closer, but stayed nearby. He wanted to be able to help if Harry needed him. Fortunately, though, he didn’t need any help. Disarming the bomb was a simple matter of yanking wires out of the explosives one at a time and then smashing the detonator, though Eggsy thought that last part was more for Harry’s own satisfaction than anything.

“Did you get anything out of that guy?” Eggsy asked once the explosives were safe.

“Not yet. But I have a feeling he won’t hold out much longer,” Harry went back over and Eggsy waited, trying not to listen as Harry continued his interrogation. It sort of turned his stomach a bit.

He’d considered, once, dropping out and going into the Royal Marines, like his dad, because unless you were very good or got sponsorships, gymnastics didn’t pay shit. But his mum had encouraged him to keep doing it, because he really was that good. Now he wondered if he had gone into the Marines if he’d be more useful to Harry right now.

But they’d met because he was on the gymnastics team. If he hadn’t been there, Harry might never have known for sure which athlete was going to plant the bomb or where he was getting the explosives. So it was good that he’d kept on it, after all.

Eventually Harry came over and said, “Their boss rented a beach house several miles from the city. The four of them, their boss, and five more guards all came down here for the Olympics. I have another coworker down here with me, Lancelot, and she and I will go to his beach house and make sure he’s stopped. Merlin has alerted our local branch and they’ll come pick up this bunch. You put your headphones back in, turn up the volume so you can hear the call, and follow Merlin’s instructions,” Harry reached down and grabbed the bag of PE-4 and handed it to Eggsy. “You’re to take this to him. It’s perfectly safe now, so don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” Eggsy shook his head. “Be careful, and I’ll be careful, too.”

“Of course,” Harry said, and pressed a kiss to Eggsy’s lips. “We’ll talk more about that when this is all over.”

“Looking forward to it.”

* * *

 

Lancelot caught up with Harry when he was nearly to the beach house. She looked somewhat smug and amused. “So … you and that gymnast. I looked him up on Wikipedia. He’s cute.”

Harry gave her a look and refused to say anything, which just made her laugh. They continued towards the beach house and stopped when they got close enough to see it. Three guards were patrolling around outside, which meant that, presumably, the other two were inside with the boss.

“This should be a piece of cake for two Kingsman agents,” Merlin said.

“We’re not trainees, you don’t have to try and goad us into doing our job,” Harry grumbled. He and Lancelot continued checking out the perimeter for several more minutes, just to make sure there weren’t any traps. Everything checked out, so they went ahead and stormed the beach house. Harry went in the front, stopping when he got close to one of the guards and taking him down. The other two guards were closer to the back entrance, so they were Lancelot’s duty.

Once the guard out front was on the ground, Harry felt around his body for keys or a keycard to get into the beach house. He found some after a moment and used them to get in, drawing his gun and checking rooms systematically. There was a gunshot from the back of the house, and he heard a shout from a room near him. A door burst open and Harry saw a man with a gun run out gun first, another man standing further back in the room. He shot the man with the gun and that one went down, the other man shouting a little. Harry ran into the room, going over to the other man and pointed his gun at him.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man asked, holding his hands up and out, his eyes flicking from Harry to the door when Harry heard Lancelot walk in behind him.

“Doesn’t matter. Tell us why you want to bomb the closing ceremonies and how many bombs you have going out,” Harry snapped.

The man snorted. “Yeah, I’m going to tell my plans to a couple of fucking Brits.”

“Tell us, or you lose a kneecap,” Lancelot said, and when the man crossed his arms she shot, hitting his kneecap exactly. The man screamed and went down, clutching at his knee.

“You fucking insane bitch!!” the man yelled, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Tell us what we want to know or the next thing I shoot is your dick,” Lancelot said pleasantly.

“Fine!! Fine! It was just the one. We wanted to plant more than one but the stupid fucking Canadian backed out. It was to try and rig the election.”

“You would commit acts of terrorism to rig your election?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“I’m not a terrorist!” the man said, and he actually had the gall to look offended. Before any more stupid could spew from his mouth, Harry went over and pistol whipped him, knocking him out.

* * *

 

“So why would an American blow up an Olympic stadium in Brazil to rig the American election?” Eggsy asked when Harry returned with Roxy. She’d introduced herself by that and her codename, both. Merlin hadn’t offered up his real name, but he had said, in the course of a conversation, that Harry’s codename was Galahad. Lancelot’s and Merlin’s names had suggested a theme, and that one definitely confirmed it. He’d have to ask Harry about it later.

“The Americans are fucking crazy,” Roxy said, grinning.

“Not far from it,” Harry said. “The groups that Fisher’s brother - and apparently Fisher himself - are associated with support very far right candidates. The kind that, when there are terrorist attacks anywhere, prey on people’s fears. Their election is in November. If there was a large scale terrorist attack now, at such a huge event, people would be terrified. It might tip the scales.”

“So, like Lancelot said, fucking crazy,” Merlin said dryly, and Eggsy busted out laughing.

Once Harry and Roxy had been debriefed by Merlin, Harry took Eggsy aside. “You didn’t have any trouble getting here?”

“No, I didn’t,” Eggsy said, smiling a little, “What about you? Did you have any trouble with your part of it?”

“No, no problems. Lancelot is excellent backup,” Harry said, and gently backed him up against a door. “Remember what I said about talking later? Would you like to pick up that discussion now?”

“Definitely. Does talking have to be part of the equation?” Eggsy asked, grinning.

“I share a wall with Merlin, I don’t think we can do much more than talk,” Harry laughed. “Maybe a bit more, but not as much as we’d like.”

“That’s all right, then,” Eggsy said, grinning, “I think we can be creative and quiet at the same time.”

* * *

 

On the 16th of August they, thanks to their status as Kingsman agents, were able to get tickets for the gymnastics events that day. Eggsy was on the horizontal bars, and when it came around to his turn, Merlin, Lancelot, and Harry cheered loudly, along with the rest of the fans from Great Britain.

Eggsy took a breath and then got a boost up from his coach and began the routine. He looked absolutely spectacular, moving fluidly and beautifully. Harry felt a hot flush of arousal watching him, and while he didn’t really know barely anything about gymnastics, the routine looked absolutely perfect to him. Every twist and flip looked gorgeous, and he stuck the landing when most of the other athletes at least stumbled a little bit.

The judges gave him a score - far too low in Harry’s opinion - but as it turned out it was high enough to give him silver. Harry stood and cheered louder and harder than he could ever remember cheering for anything before. He could feel Merlin staring at him, but he refused to acknowledge it. If there was ever a time to cease acting like a gentleman, that was it.

They met afterwards, once Eggsy was done with everything he needed to get done with his team and the Olympics.

“You did an amazing job, Eggsy!” Lancelot said, raising a glass to him and grinning wide.

“Thanks. You three did a lot more than I did, though. Everything you did with those …” Eggsy glanced around at the crowded pub and lowered his voice a little, “well. You know.”

“I still think you should have won gold,” Harry said. When he got home he would have to find the headline for the Sun from the morning of the 13th, which would have been the morning after they stopped the bombing from happening. It probably would talk about the medal count, and technically Eggsy was a part of that - he’d helped Great Britain get bronze at the team all-around, for apparently the second year in a row, and that competition had taken place on the 8th.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Harry, and not you bitching about the judges,” Eggsy laughed, sliding his arm around Harry’s shoulders in the booth and pressing against him, warm and perfect by Harry’s side.

“Exactly as it was intended,” Harry looked down into Eggsy’s face, dimly aware of Merlin tugging Lancelot off to go get refills or food or something. “We’re leaving the morning of the 22nd. We’re just staying long enough to see the closing ceremonies through and then we have to go back. But when we do get back I want to stay in touch. I want us to continue this.”

“Good. I want to, too. I hope international spy work pays well, though, because I still live with my mum. Even more awkward than trying to snog with Merlin one room over,” Eggsy said, his eyes alight and his tone warm.

“I have a lovely home in London that I think you will be very happy with. It has an excellent bed,” Harry said.

“I think I’ll have to test it out for myself. Make sure it’s up to snuff,” Eggsy tilted his chin up, bit his lip a little, and Harry couldn’t resist the temptation. He closed the gap between them, kissing firmly but keeping it relatively chaste because they were in public and surrounded by other people.

When he pulled back Harry said, quietly, “I’m looking forward to that.”

* * *

 

Considering it was durable enough to withstand the extremely athletic sex that a super spy could have with the winner of two Olympic gymnastic medals, Eggsy found that Harry’s bed was just as fucking amazing as he’d said it was.

 


End file.
